


Trust

by smallbrownfrog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Friendship, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Not Fluff, Some Disturbing Imagery That Does Not Involve Our Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallbrownfrog/pseuds/smallbrownfrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sixteen is a time of exploration, personally and sexually. What does this mean for a young werewolf and his friends as they grow up together in a culture that despises werewolves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> The characters are 16, which is the age of consent in England. In some locations they might be underage. Written for torino10154's Porn Sunday challenge. SpaG beta by L.

 

 _“...the only Wizarding photograph on the walls...was a picture of four Hogwarts students standing arm in arm, laughing at the camera”_  
-description of Sirius Black’s childhood room in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

 _“...if he thought I was the spy... I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Sirius?”_  
-Remus Lupin in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

 

It started on their first night back from Easter holiday. It was a Friday night, but not everyone was back yet and the castle was unusually quiet. So the four of them were left to their own devices and midnight found them swapping dirty stories in their room.

James was telling them all about a muggle bird who’d given him her knickers, and making up all sorts of wild things about how he’d gotten them. At least, Remus was sure he was making them up. He doubted any of them had gone beyond some nervous petting in the dark.

Sirius’ contribution was a little more substantial. He produced two garishly colored muggle magazines, one of bikini-clad girls and one of topless girls in all sorts of scandalous poses. Remus had never seen anything like it. It wasn’t the weird way each girl was frozen in mid-motion like she was caught in a spell. He’d grown up around the odd, unmoving pictures that his parents kept on the mantel. But these... they were practically naked!

All they had on were skimpy little skirts or knickers that looked like they were going to come off at any moment. Remus felt the heat rising in his cheeks, as Sirius casually turned the pages. He wanted to look more, but he watched James and Peter to see how to react. James was pointing out an especially chesty girl and looking as relaxed as if he was discussing quidditch diagrams.

However, Peter wasn’t reacting the way Remus would have expected. He had his travel bag open and was throwing things out of it as fast as he could. When he emerged he was clutching a black and white newspaper of some kind.

No, it wasn’t a newspaper. The front page had a badly lit photo of a crazed-looking man. His bare chest was nothing but skin stretched over painfully sharp ribs. His denim trousers were more rags than clothes. His hair was a tangled mess of mats. He beckoned to them with a disturbing leer, then vanished into the forest that loomed behind him.

Remus watched the loop of action several times before seeing the caption: Werewolf Lust in the Forest. When Sirius opened the page, it showed a series of small, shadowy pictures. They featured the same scrawny man over and over with various things being...shoved...into him. In one shot he held his arse cheeks apart as though in invitation, while a clothed man pushed a tree branch into his hole. In another they-- Remus didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know what that was in the man’s arse. It was huge. It had to be ripping him open. Remus thought he was going to sick up.

Peter laughed and said, “Can you believe it? The bastards take money to do this crazy shite. My uncle says you can buy a whole night for a galleon.

Sirius turned one of the pictures to look at it. “This can’t be legal. He’ll be in hospital after this.”

“Or dead,” said James.

Peter shrugged. “No one gets hurt. They do it right before the full, and then the transformation fixes any sore spots. The werewolf reserve is full of weres just gagging to do this kind of stuff for money. Not just blokes, birds too.”

Remus froze. After a long moment he stole a glance at the others. No one was looking at him.

Years later, Remus will think that this had been the moment when they began splintering apart, the moment when they began to see him as not quite human, not quite trustworthy. But here and now he was not thinking, not analyzing. He only wanted the moment to be over.

He had no idea that a doubt had begun to worm its way into their friendship. It was a tiny doubt, a speck of a doubt, a flaw too small to even call doubt. It was the shadow of a shadow of a doubt. It was the brief moments when Sirius looked at him and saw the grainy, badly lit images from Peter’s porn newspaper, instead of seeing a friend. It was the way Remus himself was so careful about contradicting his friends. It was the way James started avoiding the word “werewolf” altogether. It was the way Peter kept the battered newspaper folded in his trunk, but avoided talking about it again, at least where Remus could hear him.

Then the moment was over and Sirius was wrestling Peter to the floor and laughing “Pervert! I knew it! You’re an even bigger bloody pervert than the rest of us!”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” said James.

By the time Sirius had half-pinned Peter, and then let Peter pin him in turn --- while Sirius lay out of breath and laughing in mock surrender -- the original subject seemed forgotten. Or at least Remus hoped it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next Saturday afternoon Peter had detention. He had been caught in the rubble of their latest prank, but was too loyal to his friends to talk. So he served his detention alone.

James had quidditch practice. Gryffindor had a chance at the quidditch cup this year and the team captain had taken it as a holy mission to drill them until they thought flight was more natural than walking.

Sirius had gone to raid the kitchen and Remus lay stretched out on his bed, napping in the sunlight.

He woke to Sirius’ palm on his crotch. Remus froze, staring up at Sirius.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” said Sirius as he ran a finger over Remus’ lips. “You trust me, right?” Remus gave a tiny half nod, but must have looked as frightened as he felt, because Sirius said, “You know I wouldn’t hurt you. Relax. It’ll be brilliant.” His hand was rubbing Remus even as he talked. The fabric of his robe suddenly felt awfully thin and his pants began to feel uncomfortably tight.

Sirius’ hand quested softly in slow circles and waves all over his hips while his first hand continued to press casually on Remus’ cock. “It’s going to feel good, mate. You’re going to like this.” He kept up a steady patter of conversation as though he was talking to a skittish animal, not an intelligent human being.

Or a skittish werewolf, thought Remus.

Still, Remus responded to the gentle coaxing and let the words wash over him. He felt the tension leave his muscles.

Sirius gave him a rakish grin and said, “That’s good then. Here we go. Oh, yes.” His fingers skimmed under the elastic band of Remus’ pants. “Good, eh? Look what I got in the kitchen.”

Remus didn’t look to see what it was. Instead he kept his eyes on Sirius’ face, as Sirius looked down at something on the floor next to the bed. There was the sound of a liquid sloshing and then Sirius’ hand was back on Remus’ thigh, stroking gently and... wetly?

“They had a whole shelf of olive oil bottles, simply oceans of the stuff,” said Sirius. “Much better than biscuits any day.”

Sirius began slowly rolling the band of Remus’ pants down with oil slicked fingers. Remus found himself lifting his haunches up to help in their removal. Then the oiled fingers were exploring his cock. Sirius touched him oh so lightly, and yet it was all he felt. He’d quit even hearing what Sirius was saying. Instead his voice had been reduced to a comforting background sound.

Then the touching stopped, and he found himself giving a small sigh before clamping down on his reactions.

“Mate, I said are you alright?” asked Sirius.

For a moment Remus tried to answer this, but he couldn’t make any sense come out of his brain. All he could think was that one of his best mates had just had his hands all over his cock and that he had no polite phrases for this situation. Remus struggled with unexpected laughter and just lay there wheezing with it.

Sirius grinned back, that lazy rakish grin that no one could resist and said, “I knew you’d come 'round, Mooney.” His hands came back to Remus’ cock, stroking casually up and down, and then he nudged Remus’ legs so that Remus said “What?”

“Move your legs apart more,” said Sirius, “-- or no, roll over,” and his hands were on Remus’ hip urging him over. “That’s it. Yeah. That’s better.”

The fingers began to play with his bollocks, rolling them and lifting them. Then he felt the distinct feel of something pressing his arsehole.

“Sirius.”

“Shhh. Next full will be all about you. Just give me this little thing today. Easy. Easy. There we go.”

The questing finger circled his arse hole like water circling a drain, sliding wet and slippery in ever diminishing circles till gravity pulled it in and he couldn’t help but give a little gasp as it drove inside him.

“Brilliant. You’re doing brilliant. Pure genius.” It was an odd feeling, but not unpleasant, as Sirius slowly swirled the finger inside him, pulling it in and out. “It’s supposed to be in here. Sod it.”

He looked up to find Sirius peering at him, as though expecting some reaction before going back to moving his finger. “Do you feel anything?”

“You do have your finger inside my arse.”

There was a pause, then he felt pressure and a sharp sting and --

“Sirius!”

“It’s okay. Just push back like you’re trying to squeeze it out.”

The pain eased up as Remus pushed back.

“You have no idea how good this is going to feel, Mooney. I’m going to take care of you. That’s three fingers now. Sweet merlin, I wish you could see it.”

Then the fingers pulled out and there was the sound of a sloshing liquid. “I’m going to spell some of this into you. It might feel a little weird at first, but it’ll be worth it.” Remus could feel warm liquid running down his thighs. For one half second he thought he had pissed himself and was embarrassed.

Then the pressure was back at his arsehole and Sirius was saying, “Push back Mooney. For me, please.” The part of him that always worked so hard to please twisted in his gut, pulling at him until he acted. So he did his best to push out, push back. He kept pushing through a long moment of pain and then Sirius gave a whoop of delight before resting his weight on Remus.

“I’m all in, old wolf.”

“In?” Remus didn’t open his eyes to see. “Your fingers?”

“No, Mooney, you took my whole bloody cock. I’m balls deep in wolf arse.”

He could hear Sirius’ grin even without seeing it. Remus breathed slowly, trying to adjust to the feeling of something deep in his belly.

Then Sirius was lifting off him slightly, before coming back down. Soon he had a steady rhythm going. “I’m balls.” Thrust. “Deep.” Thrust. “In wolf arse.”

Remus felt his own cock renew its interest. The steady thrusts began to feel like a dance inside his body. The hot wet feel of Sirius’ breath on his neck, of Sirius’ cock inside him, was nothing like the frightening night images from the porno magazine. It was Sirius touching him and it felt good. It felt safe. He felt warm and wanted and liked -- all the things he had ever wanted.

Then something lit up inside him like an electric circuit being completed. A frisson of pleasure ran all the way through his body. It was like winning the house cup. It was everything good and wonderful and it was all RIGHT THERE when Sirius thrust in.

Remus moaned. He couldn’t help it.

He had felt great pain in his life -- the pain of being bitten, the pain of hiding who he was, the pain of transformation when his body ripped itself apart. He prided himself on silence in the face of pain. Yet now it was pleasure that was ripping him apart and he had no defense.

He was warm and happy, lying as limp as melted butter. Sirius was half on him, half off him, and he was much too sated to move. So they lay there in an exhausted tangle of boy flesh. Remus thought he might fall asleep like this. It almost felt like he was dreaming already.

But then the room door opened, letting in a draft of colder air. Remus looked up to see a sweaty and dishevelled James, still in his quidditch gear.

James paused for just a second before smiling a blinding smile and saying, “Brilliant! I knew you’d come through, Mooney.”


End file.
